


Late Night Movie

by NikAdair



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Late night shenanigans, and lance is definitely more perceptive than Keith expected, drunk Keith has no filter, drunk keith, pre-klance, theatre worker lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 05:11:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17481824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikAdair/pseuds/NikAdair
Summary: He’d changed out of the theatre polo, and was instead wearing a blue and black striped tee. He had a black jacket on over it, half zipped, and a string bag on his back. “Welcome back to the land of the living, stranger, ready to go?” he asked. The hesitance was still there, but there was also humour in his voice, and his eyes sparkled a little. Keith felt like he could drown in those eyes. He struggled to stand, and when he did, Lance walked up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. He unconsciously smiled, liking the way it felt.ORKeith goes to a bar and ends up at a movie theatre, finding something far more desirable that a drink





	Late Night Movie

**Author's Note:**

> A friend from a discord server I’m in gave me the prompt of “Lance works in a movie theatre. Keith wants to watch a movie. It’s 2 am.” It’s kind of a self-indulgent fic, really just me writing something to make myself feel better. But I hope you guys enjoy!

Keith didn’t really know why he was out late, wondering the streets. Well, he did, to an extent. His unsteady steps were a giveaway as to why. That, and the buzz he felt in his mind, the way his vision swayed a little. So yeah, he did kind of know why he was out so late. But what he didn’t know is why he’d decided to go to the movie theatre. At two in the morning. On a Tuesday night (Wednesday morning? Keith didn’t know, he had a hard enough time focusing on walking, let alone logistics.)

The bright lights hurt his eyes a little, but that was to be expected. He stumbled into the building, unaware of the fact that it should be closing in less than an hour. He shivered a little, the air conditioning chilling him through his sweater. Or really, chilling his arms. He’d rolled his sleeves up sometime earlier, while at the bar. He vaguely remembered the warmth sticking to him, and him regretting not wearing a tank top underneath.

“Sir? Sir, you shouldn’t be in here. We’re closing soon,” a voice said somewhere to his left. Keith’s movements were a little slow as he turned his head. There was a boy standing there, leaning on a vacuum, the cord wrapped around his hand. His eyes dragged themselves up his body. Over broad shoulders, covered in a red and black polo. Over tan skin that looked as though it were made of caramel. Up to blue eyes that seemed a little stormy, but he guessed it was because of how far apart they were.

Keith walked over to him, stumbling a little as his boots caught on the carpet. The boy who had spoken earlier straightened, his eyes locked on him as his hand wondered to his pocket. He opened his mouth to say something, but it was cut short. His boot caught on the carpet and he stumbled, falling on the ground. He landed with an _oof_ as he practically face planted on the floor. He rolled onto his back, laughing, staring up at the ceiling.

His vision was blocked as the theatre boy walked over to him, leaning over him. “Are you okay?” he asked. Keith focused on the boy’s face – caramel skin, wide ocean eyes, freckles dotting his face. Thin lips pursed into a frown, chestnut hair falling into his face. _He’s pretty cute_ he thought, the only clear thought his fuzzy mind could think of. “Sir?” he asked again.

Keith blinked. He sat up, shaking his head. It did little to clear the fuzziness, but it was a habit for him. He turned to the theatre boy again. The glint of his name tag caught his eye. _Lance, huh? Cute name._ He watched as Lance blinked, surprise in his eyes. It took Keith a moment to process the look, and when he did, he felt his face go warm. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?” he slurred. Lance nodded a little, biting his lip. _Damn, was that cute._

Lance’s face flushed, and Keith cursed himself for not being able to keep his mouth shut. He stood, taking a few unsteady steps back. “Sorry about that, I should get going,” he said, this time with a little less slur and a little more stutter. He turned on his heel, stumbling his way to the doors, when he felt a hand catch his arm. He stopped and turned, seeing Lance standing there.

“Maybe you should call a cab? Or Uber? Or someone? You shouldn’t be walking around while you’re, you know…” he trailed off, letting go of his arm. Keith cocked his head to the side, processing his words. It was slow going, the alcohol slowing his mind down. He kept getting distracted by Lance’s face, by how kissable his lips looked. He felt his face flush and he shook his head again.

“S’okay, I live that way,” he said, gesturing in a random direction. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know where he was or where the bar was, let alone where he lived. He was a little upset, because now he didn’t have his bike. He’d have to find it in the morning. Keith was pulled from his thoughts as Lance waved his hand in his face. “Hm?”

“I said, you should still get a ride home.” Lance bit his lip again and looked away, his hands fidgeting. “If you can wait like half an hour, I can take you home.” His voice was timid, quiet, soft, and something in Keith wanted to pull him forward and kiss him (well, maybe that was just the alcohol. Keith had no impulse control when he was drunk, but damn did it make him feel good.)

He wasn’t entirely aware of him nodding until Lance looked back at him. “Cool. Just go sit at the counter while I finish cleaning, and then we can go.” Keith did as he was told, sitting on the ground with his back against the counter as Lance started up the vacuum. He closed his eyes, not able to keep them open for much longer, and after what felt like five minutes opened them, only to find Lance standing in front of him.

He’d changed out of the theatre polo, and was instead wearing a blue and black striped tee. He had a black jacket on over it, half zipped, and a string bag on his back. “Welcome back to the land of the living, stranger, ready to go?” he asked. The hesitance was still there, but there was also humour in his voice, and his eyes sparkled a little. Keith felt like he could drown in those eyes. He struggled to stand, and when he did, Lance walked up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. He unconsciously smiled, liking the way it felt.

They walked out of the building, Lance letting go so he could lock up, before pulling Keith around the back and to his car. “My name’s Keith,” he mumbled. Lance glanced behind him and eyed him curiously, but nodded. They got to his car, Lance walking to the passenger side and opening the door.

“After you Keith,” he said. Keith shivered, liking the way Lance said his name. He walked forward, all but falling into the seat, and fumbled with the seatbelt. He heard Lance chuckle, and he leaned over him, buckling him in. Keith could smell his cologne – earthy yet sweet – and it swirled around him as Lance leaned back out of the car. It was just as potent as the alcohol, making Keith feel lightheaded.

Lance closed the door and walked around the car, getting into the driver’s seat. As he started the car, music started playing. Keith jumped, and Lance reached forward, turning the volume down. “So, Keith, where am I headed?” He furrowed his brow, trying to remember where his apartment was. It took him a moment, but when he remembered, he gave Lance the address. “Huh. We live in the same building.”

It was a quiet drive, and Keith had fallen asleep. He woke up to the feeling of Lance driving over the speed bump in the parking garage, groaning at having been woken up. He heard Lance chuckle, and rolled his head over to look at him. His features were sharp in the light, different than they had appeared in the theatre.

Lance helped Keith out of the car and to the elevator, most of Keith’s weight leaning on Lance. Once in the elevator, Keith slumped against the wall. He closed his eyes again, this time willing himself to stay awake. He opened them, looking at Lance. He stood against the wall, arms crossed, head tipped back. He was humming a song that Keith didn’t know, but it was pleasant to listen to.

He didn’t really know what he was doing until he was moving. He stumbled forward, towards Lance, and stopped a few inches in front of him. Lance opened his eyes, startled by the sudden movement. Keith was hesitant. He knew why he’d moved, but standing there now, he felt small. He looked into Lance’s eyes, and saw them dart down before darting back up, and Keith surged forward, closing the space between them.

He tasted of sugar. Of butter. Of chocolate. His lips were soft, moving in sync with his own. His hands were soft where they held him, keeping him close to him. Keith’s own were balled in his shirt, aware of the wrinkles he was creating. He could taste his alcohol tainted breath on his lips, and for a moment he marveled at how Lance could still kiss him. But only a moment, before Lance flipped them. Keith’s back hit the wall with a soft thump, and the kiss was broken. Both boys were breathing heavily. Lance’s height advantage caused him to look down at him.

It was quiet, tense, neither boy saying anything. The ding of the elevator caused them to separate, Lance walking out first, with a drunk and dazed Keith following after. They walked down the hall, towards Keith’s apartment, and stopped in front of the door. He fumbled with his keys, and Lance took them, unlocking the door and pushing it open. He leaned forward, close to Keith’s ear.

“If you want to continue that moment in the elevator, come down to room 256,” he whispered, pulling back as he dropped Keith’s keys into his hands. Lance winked and sauntered back to the elevator. Keith’s eyes were glued to his hips, watching them as they swayed, only looking up as Lance turned, the doors slowly closing. It was a split second decision, and Keith slammed his door shut, chasing after the theatre boy.


End file.
